Estimated reading time: 3 minutes (658 words)

At first glance, the new Hulu series The Bear comes off as a typically “gritty” Chicago show; another Dick Wolf spinoff set around food. But unlike that franchise, The Bear is a true love letter to its host city, one that doesn’t deal as much in stereotypes as in the figures behind them. 

The show is set at “The Original Beef of Chicagoland,” an old-school Italian beef joint in River North, filmed at The Original Mr. Beef, an old-school Italian beef joint in River North. Carmy, played by Jeremy Allen White of Shameless fame, returns from the world of haute cuisine to run the restaurant after his brother’s suicide. He encounters broken finances, a changing neighborhood, and a staff that does whatever it wants. It is chaos. 

In short order, Carmy and his stage-turned-lieutenant Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) begin to instill a sense of order and purpose. The restaurant’s system, run de facto by “cousin” Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), is transformed by implementing a French brigade. The menu is re-focused on the beef. Kitchen equipment is upgraded, inventory is actually tracked, and the finances are addressed although not quite solved. 

The Bear covers a lot of ground in its short run time (about 4 hours across 8 episodes). Its depiction of the kitchen is generally considered to be scarily accurate, even triggering. Its showcase of a broken family and the fallout of Michel’s suicide is heart wrenching. Every part of The Bear is visceral, and that’s largely what makes it so good. 

Behind this all is Chicago. The Bear is not just set in Chicago — it is of Chicago, too. The city is used as a canvas for the characters, even though there aren’t too many scenes outside the restaurant itself. The characters are rich and filled out and feel familiar in their settings, and most of all, they remind you of the salt of the earth Chicagoans you encounter every day. The geography is correct, which shouldn’t be taken for granted in a show like this. And the details are immaculate, whether on sets designed for the show, certain wardrobe decisions, or just Mr. Beef items left in place. Steve Dolinsky doesn’t make an appearance in the flesh, but his portrait hovers in the background like some sort of guardian angel. Unlike Netflix, Hulu will never be asked if it hates Chicago. 

As I watched, I also couldn’t escape the thought that The Bear is, in a lot of ways, a foil to Ted Lasso, offering a similar vision but on a much more human level. Consider: both shows portray a broken team helmed by an innate leader with deep personal flaws. The situations are initially chaotic as the result of trauma (suicide, divorce). As the shows progress, characters discover their talents and settle into their roles. Indeed, character development is a hallmark of both programs. Teamwork and purpose gradually replace individualism and anarchy. Both programs have an anti-hero (Carmy is his own worst enemy, while Nate inherits Rebecca’s Ted-hatred), as well as a backup man (Coach Beard, Richie). But that’s where The Bear and Ted Lasso go their separate ways. 

Where Ted Lasso is brimming with optimism, The Bear is a pessimistic show. Ted Lasso attempts to lift people out of their situations with peppy self-help and coaching, while The Bear embraces the suck and improves characters through grit and determination. The Ted Lasso story has a neat narrative arc to it that feels predictable, even if you don’t know how they will pull it all off. The Bear could not be more opposite: ultimately you do not know if the restaurant will fail, and if it doesn’t, what success actually looks like. 

What does success mean for Carmy and the crew? The season finale offers one hint: the Beef will close and a fine dining concept named The Bear will open in its place. 

Now if only we could get the recipe for that beef.